


I Choose you

by EmeraldBriar



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drama & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-23 00:11:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18538312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldBriar/pseuds/EmeraldBriar
Summary: A tournament is held to compete for Myra's hand. How will she guarantee Sandor Clegane's victory?





	I Choose you

Myra stared quietly at her full plate of food. The awkwardness of the present situation diminishing her appetite. The tension was furthered in the modestly sized garden party, celebrating her marriage which had taken place just minutes ago, by the King of Westeros. The young boy couldn’t help but praise himself for helping Myra’s father find her such a good match for a husband, which led to her current place next to the King’s own sworn shield, The Hound, Sandor Clegane.  
“What a lovely couple, don’t you agree?” Joffrey laughed gleefully toward Myra’s father, Dorian Rames, who only replied with a quiet “Yes, your grace.”  
“The bastard child of a disgraced knight and my very own guard dog. Seems fitting does it not? But, what can I say? He was the winner of the tournament, even if it was only because The Mountain was forced to withdraw.” The boy continued.  
Myra tried to tune out the cruel king’s childish taunting but when he mentioned The Mountain, she couldn’t help but clench her fists tighter as her breath caught in her throat. That was his plan all along. He was counting on Ser Gregor winning the tournament held for her hand. Thankfully, one of the other men managed to deal a major wound to the giant man before he himself was decapitated by The Mountain’s large claymore. After passing out from blood loss, Gregor Clegane was taken away, his place in the tourney withdrawn. Myra had heard what became of the horrifying man’s former wives and terrified that she would face the same fate. Soon, the terror vanished and happiness replaced the feeling when Sandor Clegane was announced the winner in the next match. Myra began admiring the king’s shield when he saved her many years ago from the very man Joffrey tried to marry her to. Gregor Clegane had had her backed into a corner after he had killed her only brother during his ‘training’, when Sandor pulled him away from her, telling her to run. The happiness she felt being betrothed to her savior was short lived. No amount of reassuring her father that she would be safe and happy could convince him otherwise. He was terrified of her marriage to The Hound, expecting the large man to hurt or kill her. Dorian Rames was sure he was sending his daughter to her deathbed. Aside from her father, was Joffrey Baratheon’s merciless teasing. The whole wedding a hilarious joke to him, though he insisted on attending and even orchestrating. If only he knew how much Myra admired Sandor Clegane. Would he still find it so funny? She couldn’t stand to see everyone’s concerning faces pointed at her. Why were they all so scared of the man next to her? Sure, He was large and strong. The scar marking his face added to this intimidation but wasn’t hideous as people say. The skin was disfigured but not grotesque. It was almost beautiful to her, adding more character to the man. Despite his size and harsh way of speaking, he was a good man, even if he tried to hide it. Myra saw it the day he saved her and witnessed it with his most recent protection over the young Lady Sansa.  
Taking a glance at her new husband, she watched as he ate with gusto, his appetite not failing him as hers had. He quickly polished off a whole chicken himself along with a small mountain of potatoes and root vegetables. When it came to drink however, Myra was sure the were almost matched. The alcohol calmed her nerves and she wasn’t sure standing was the best of ideas right now. Myra’s heart dropped when he glanced back at her before turning away again. His expression one of obvious displeasure. He looked like the last thing he wanted was to have her next to him. The only words he had spoken to her since the day of the tourney were his wedding vows, falling into silence and ignoring her once again afterward. Even on the day of the tourney, when she tried to tell him she felt honoured to have him win her hand the simply growled out “Like fucking hell ya do.” Before storming off. Myra’s hopes for a happy marriage were gone and a heavy feeling weighed down her chest instead.   
The walk back to Sandor’s chambers was just as quiet as dinner had been. (Other than the obnoxiously cruel child taunting them.) Myra fell in step behind her husband as he led them through the halls of the Red Keep. His stride was long and she had to nearly jog to keep up with him. Her large green eyes took him in for she didn’t even know how many times that day. Her mind filled with thoughts of what she could have possibly done to receive such hatred from him. Sandor finally stopped at a door and opened it, holding it for Myra as she stepped into her new home, the first time he has acknowledged her for hours. Myra took in the simplistic living quarters. No decorations graced the walls and the large bed was shoved in a corner. Sandor immediately strode toward a pitcher and poured himself a cup of wine. Myra stood in place, unsure of what to do as she watched him. Her gaze must have bothered him because he finally decided to speak again.   
“What?” He snapped as he took a gulp from him cup.  
“Would you like some help removing your armor?” She managed to strike up the courage to say. She had never been this close to him for so long. She was always content admiring the Hound from afar. The man made her weak in the knees. She couldn’t remember ever having such a strong crush on someone. Now, the two of them were married, the duties of a wife not a secret to her, making her incredibly nervous.   
“I can manage my own armor, girl.” He grunted.   
“Right.” She whispered as her hand came up to begin unfastening her dress. Her heart beating so fast, it skipped and she was sure it would soon burst forth from her breast.   
“what the fuck are you doing?” Sandor growled, his voice sounding angry. Myra's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at him.   
“I-I thought…” She began before he interrupted her again.   
“I have no interest in your maidenhood, girl. Go to bed and leave your husband alone.” He said as his eyes traveled down her form.   
Myra was at loss for what to say. Instead, she decided to take the time to draw herself a bath, a large changing screen blocking her from his view. As she was bathing she heard him stand and leave the chamber, slamming the door behind him. Soon after, Myra dressed in a nightgown and wandered back to the center of he room. The pitcher of wine on the table was empty.   
“He must have gone to get more.” She thought.   
After brushing her dark brown curls, Myra retired to the bed, scooting to one side and waited for her husband to join her. She laid there for hours before dozing off, never hearing the chamber door open again that night. 

Myra was woken up by her handmaiden bringing her breakfast. The younger blonde woman chatted happily just like every morning since Myra was twelve.   
“Good morning Myra, I’ve brought you your breakfast and even mixed a bit of pain killing herbs into your tea for after your wedding night with your dreamboat, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Scary.” She teased with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. “Where is your new husband anyway, Lady Clegane?”  
“Fuck if I know.” Myra mumbled, thinking back on last night. “He left last night and never returned.”  
“Wait, so he didn’t…”  
“No Winnie, he didn’t.”   
“Did you wear the gown I made?”  
“Didn’t exactly get the chance to. Besides, I was such a wreck all day. I could barely look at him. I was just so..”  
“Nervous? Flustered? Wet between the thighs?”  
“Oh shut up.”  
“Come on. Let’s take a walk in the garden and talk. Finish eating, I’ll find you a dress.” 

“Why did you bring me out here?” Myra chastised Winnie as they strolled through the gardens at a leisurely pace.   
“I thought you didn’t care what people say, Lady Clegane.” She teased.   
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what they say. I’m tired of the way they’re looking at me damn it. It’s like I can feel their irrational pity, like I’m stuck in a trap.” She all but growled.   
“Some of them think you are.” Her handmaiden reminded her. “Even more wonder how you are able to walk today.”  
“Like I said, He didn’t touch me.” Myra mumbled, disappointment evident in her voice.  
“But you wanted him to.” Winnie said knowingly. Myra nodded.   
“I was really happy when Sandor was finally declared the winner. I know Joffrey saw it as some but joke but I didn’t care. I was happy.”   
“You’re welcome, and your taste in men is off. That guy is scary, I see why your dad is terrified.”  
“Winnie, I’m being serious.”  
“Ok fine. So why didn’t you? Did you chicken out? You know you aren’t actually married if you don’t..”  
“I know! I know. It’s not like I didn’t want to. I was just so nervous but that wasn’t even the problem.” Myra sighed before continuing. “He didn't want me. He wouldn't do it, said he wasn’t interested.”  
“Are you sure he wasn’t just being nice?”  
Myra laughed. “He doesn’t exactly peg me as nice, but I don’t know. Maybe he just wants someone with more experience or maybe he just isn’t attracted to me.”  
“Well if he’s not then he’s dumb as well as deformed.” Winnie huffed.   
“Winnie, that’s rude!”  
“I don’t care. What’s he gonna do, kill his wife’s best friend? You’re gorgeous, My. Any guy who doesn’t see that is blind. And you’re so nice! How many girls can look at a guy like that and think ‘I want to take a ride on that enormous beast.’”  
“Winnie, someone will hear you.” Myra mumbled, embarrassed.  
“So, you were nervous yesterday, maybe he thought you were scared of him.” She concluded.  
“But, I’m not. I know he wouldn’t hurt me.”  
“Yeah but, that’s only because you watched him like a stalker. he doesn’t know that. Everyone else is scared of him, why wouldn’t you be?”  
“He saved me.”  
“And you haven’t said a thing to him since. Even Sansa said thank you when he saved her and she IS terrified of him. You just came to me and wouldn’t shut up about him.”  
“I hate you. You’re fired.”  
“Like hell I am. I’m just saying, My, show him you aren’t scared. Make him dinner, you’re an amazing cook, even better than that grouch who cooks for Joffrey. Do your hair and wear something sexy, like the violet dress from Dorne. Show him some of that Myra charm we used to use on the guards to lie to your father when we would sneak out.”  
“You’re right.” Myra nodded “I just need to be more confident.”  
“Right.” Winnie confirmed, her eyes snapping to look behind Myra.  
“I can do that.” Myra laughed nervously.  
“Well, now’s your chance. Your knight in scary armor is here. Gods, I think he’s bigger everytime I see him. I’m just gonna go over here.” Winnie laughed uncomfortably as she stood on the other side of a wall of shrubs, still able to hear Myra and to snoop without being seen by her husband.  
“S-Sandor.” Myra greeted her husband as he stopped in front of her. He was not alone as a smug young king was with him, smiling evilly. “Why what a lovely surprise to run into your wife here in the gardens, Hound.” He said, emphasizing the word ‘wife’.  
“Your grace.” Myra greeted.  
“How was your wedding night, Lady Clegane?” Joffrey laughed. Myra was silent, knowing if she spoke out it would not end well for her or for Sandor. “Hound, aren’t you happy to see the pretty wife I gave you?” The boy continued, taking too much pleasure in his taunting.  
“Of course, your grace.” Sandor said behind clenched teeth, wishing nothing more than to bring his sword down on the boy’s head.  
“Perhaps you should give her a kiss. Show the others in the Red Keep she is yours.”  
“Now is not an appropriate..” Sandor started to growl out before Joffrey interrupted him.  
“Do it or I will. She is very pretty, even if she is a bastard. I may borrow her tonight.”  
At that Sandor let out a growl and grabbed Myra in a strong embrace. He slammed his lips on hers in a heated kiss. As quick as the kiss happened it was over and Myra had forgotten how to breathe, only staring at her husband with wide eyes. Joffrey, seemingly satisfied with his joke, told Sandor to follow him as he walked away. The Hound followed his king after sparing a few more second to stare back at his wife. As they walked away, Myra found her breathing again and Winnie rejoined her.  
“I think he likes you.” Winnie told her.  
“Run down to the market for me and find my dress from Dorne. Fuck being nervous. I want him to kiss me like that again.”

 

Myra was getting changed into her dress for the evening while Winnie was setting the places at the table for Myra and Sandor. Dinner was ready and steaming on the table and her husband would be home soon as it was already nightfall.   
“I hope he likes pork roast.” Myra thought aloud.  
“Have you seen the size of him? I’m sure he eats anything.”  
“I’m so nervous.”  
“Well stop. Tonight you are a tigress. On the hunt for that dick.”  
“Please stop talking.”  
“No can do, it comes with the package. Do you want all these candles lit or just the ones on the table?”  
“Just the table and the mantle piece. Then please get out. I don't want you here when he gets back. I haven't told him about you, he may not like it.”  
“Trust me, I don't want to be here when he gets here anyway”  
As if on cue, the door to Sandor’s chambers opened as he walked in. He took one look at Winnie and his hand went to his sword.  
“Who are you?” He demanded.   
“Uh Myra, You’re husband is scaring me.” Winnie told her. Myra poked her head out from behind the changing screen and gave Sandor a smile.   
“That is Winnie, she is my handmaiden.” She told him. Sandor visibly calmed.   
“Winnie you can leave now.” Myra told her.   
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” She said as she dashed out the door. Sandor shook his head as he started to remove his armor, taking notice of the dinner placed on the table.  
“I thought the kitchens were serving pigeon pie tonight.” He absentmindedly commented.   
“Oh perhaps. I didn’t send for dinner tonight. I cooked it.” Myra said as she finally stepped out from behind the screen. Sandor continued his task without so much as a glance at her.   
“I didn't know ladies like you could cook.”  
“Most can’t. My mother taught me.”  
“Thought you were Rames’ bastard.”  
“He didn't know about me till she died. I was twelve.”  
Sandor finally removed his last piece of armor and turned to look at his wife. She was watching him, her big green eyes gazing deeply into his. His gaze dropped to look at her dress which clung to her curves in all the right places. the bodice pushing her breasts up to be shown off while the skirt flowed freely. Her arms were bare, only inch thick straps holding the dress on her shoulders. The deep violet color clashed with her skin beautifully. Sandor realized he was staring and looked away, being sure to keep her from looking at the right side of his face.   
“Let’s just fucking eat.” He said plopping himself down on a chair and filling his plate. Myra joined him on the other side and did the same with less speed and aggression. Sandor began shoveling food in his mouth but paused, staring at her and chewed slower before swallowing. Myra stared back, unsure of what to do. Did he not like it? Suddenly, He gave her a small half smile and lowered his gaze back to his food.   
“It’s good.” He told her before he continued to eat, slower than before. Myra's heart felt alleviated and she gave him the biggest grin.  
“What?” he snapped at her.  
“I’m glad you like it! It makes me happy! Thank you, Sandor.” She said, her smile not leaving her face.  
“Why are you doing this?” He asked her skeptically.   
“Doing what?” She asked confused.   
“Making dinner and putting on pretty dresses.” He told her mockingly.   
“Isn’t that what wives do?” She asked as if it were obvious.  
“Just because that cunt king forced ya to marry me…” He started before Myra stopped him.   
“I don’t care what Joffrey decided. He didn’t pick you. I did.”  
“He forced you to marry the winner of a tourney.”  
“That he wanted The Mountain to win. But he didn’t, you did.”  
“Congratulations.” Sandor sneered. “You avoided a rape and death sentence with my brother but you still got stuck with the king’s ugly monster hound.”  
“You are not a monster. You saved me once, remember?”  
“Aye, I remember. Young thing, just got to the Red Keep. Gregor liked the look of ya. Doesn’t mean anything. I just don't like seeing him get what he wants.” He huffed, downing his cup of wine and pouring another.   
“You saved Sansa from Joffrey’s punishment and from being raped.”  
“How do you know about that?”  
“The maids know everything. Winnie told me.”  
“That maid of yours better not be a pain in my ass.”  
“She will be but, she is terrified of you. Take advantage of that.”  
“And you’re not?” He asked unconvinced.   
“No.”  
“Horse shit! I saw your eyes on our wedding day Little Bunny. Couldn’t even look at your husbands mangled face.”  
“You are not mangled. I find you very handsome.”  
“Don’t lie to yourself, girl.”   
“I’m not.”  
“You don’t think I’ve seen that fucking look before?! It’s the same one your maid and every other lady in this fucking place gives me, and the men. They just can’t stop staring at this.” He said, pointing to his scar, his voice raised in anger. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you looking too, Little Bunny. Everytime you are near. Well now you can look at it all you want.”  
“Good.” She says sternly, surprising Sandor with her own brashness. “I need to give Winnie a pay raise because her plan worked and my beaten corpse isn’t being carried out of The Mountain’s chambers as we speak.”  
“What are you fucking going on about, girl?” He hissed, his brow lowering in confusion.   
“I knew you would win.”  
“Like hell ya did.”  
“Winnie helped me put blood thinners in The Mountain’s waterskin.” She told him without skipping a beat. Their eyes bore into each others, their food forgotten in front of them. Sandor continued to be surprised by his wife. “Like I said, Joffrey didn’t pick you. I did.” She continued.   
“The other men..”  
“Paid to lose.”  
“By who? Last I check, Rames’ pockets aren't flowing with gold.”  
“My great aunt, Lady Redwyne. She was at our wedding.”  
“The hag with the headdress.”  
“Yes.” Myra replied in amusement. After a few silent moments, he spoke.  
“Why?” Sandor asked her. Myra sighed and stood, moving close and stopping in front of him. Even in the chair and with her standing she was only a head higher due to his large frame. Sandor watched silently as Myra took his hand in hers and rubbed circles into it with her thumb. She took a few moments to daydream about his large hands on her before she spoke.   
“I have not been the same since the day you rescued me all those years ago. I was only a child then but I have not dreamed of another man since. I care not for the deeds you have done in the name of the demon child on the throne.’ (Sandor could not help his amused smirk as she insulted the king.) “And I care not for the whispers and the stares. The rumors of the ugly hound who guards the king are greatly over exaggerated.”  
Her hand came to caress the scarred side of his face. He tried to turn away but her other hand came up to hold him in place. “Please Sandor. Let me look at the man I married. I want to look at his handsome face.”  
“Stop saying that.” He growled.   
“I will not. Perhaps, if you won’t believe my words I should show you how much I want you.” Myra said, her voice taking on a low seductive purr. Her hand glided down his neck to rest on his chest as she sat herself on his large lap facing him, her eyes never leaving his. Sandor felt his body begin to betray him as he felt blood rush low.   
“Stop teasing Little Bunny.” His voice nearly begged.   
“It isn’t teasing if I plan to follow through.” She hummed as she began to kiss the unscarred side of his face and down his neck. Sandor let out a low groan as his hands found his wife’s waist. His fingers dug in and squeezed her hips as she nipped at his neck. Finally, she stopped and hovered her lips close to his.   
“Kiss me like you did in the garden.” She whispered desperately to him.   
Unable to stand the torture she gave him any longer, he smashed his mouth harshly against hers in a hungry kiss. Myra whimpered against his mouth as he stood and lifted her into his arms, her legs wrapping around him to hold herself steady. Sandor carried her to the bed as their mouths battled dominance, the winner clearly being him. He placed her down on their bed and their lips separated as he hovered above her.   
“Are you sure, Little Bunny?” He asked, his only answer being another kiss. Sandor took the hint and began to pull on the straps of her dress. He pulled down until her breasts were bared to him, her nipples hardening at the exposure. He wasted no time claiming one into his mouth and sucking it greedily. Myra let out more soft whimpers as his mouth teased her, making a dampness form between her legs. He soon switched his attention to the neglected breast and took it in his mouth. One hand held his body up as he sucked, not wanting to place too much of his weight on her, while the other continued to pull her dress from her body until she was bare as the day she was born. Myra blushed as Sandor took in her form, her breasts heaved up and down in her lustful panting, a good handful each for him. her hips were wide, made for birthing, and her flower already glistening with her excitement. She was gorgeous to him. His manhood strained against his tightening breeches. He stood straight and made quick work of his shirt but as he worked to unlace his breeches he was stopped by Myra’s small voice.  
“Wait.” She told him, moving to kneel on the bed in front of him. “Let me.”  
Sandor moved his hands and allowed her to continue his task. Myra brought her hands up, one working to unlace him and the other gently rubbing him through the fabric, his groans only making her grow more wet. When his cock sprang free she almost gasped at the sheer size of it. She could feel he was well endowed through his breeches but being fully exposed to his length made an empty feeling come over her. One that she desperately wanted him to fill.   
“You going to do something with it or just stare?” He asked her. Myra took his length in her hand and began to stroke the already fully engorged organ. His low moans encouraging her to continue. His cock twitched in her hand and his hand stopped his own.   
“Don’t want me spilling too soon, Little Bunny.”  
He joined her on the bed once again and claimed her lips with his own. His mouth trailed down and stopped at her collarbone, giving it a bite and suck. Myra let out a moan and held him to her as he kissed her chest and sucked on her breasts once again. His hand traveled down to rub against her folds. A loud moan erupted from her throat as he played with her womanhood, feeling the slickness cause by him.   
“You’re so wet for me, Little Bunny.” He growled seductively in her ear. The actions only making her drip down his wrist as he inserted a finger into her. Her moans filled the room and her voice begged him to take her. Sandor didn’t need to be asked again. He removed his finger from inside of her and moved to turn her over.   
“Don’t” She begged. Her hands came to grip his shoulders and she kissed him. Her lips moved to kiss the scarred side of his face.   
“I want to see you as well as feel you.” She whispered against him. He pressed his swollen cock against her and pushed into her slowly, filling her with him.   
More moans escaped from Myra as she was stretched, her wetness doing well to help her not feel much pain, the bit that was there quickly turning into pleasure. He stayed in place until she started moving against him. A gasp left her as he moved to withdraw his cock, thrusting back into her. Myra moved her hips with his in a steady rhythm, losing herself in the feelings surging through her body. Her hands stroked his chest and anywhere else she could reach. She was completely at the mercy of the man fucking her. Unable to hold back any longer, she screamed in bliss as a wave of euphoria washed over her. Feeling her walls convulse and her body milking him sent Sandor over the edge and he tensed as he shot himself inside her.   
His softening member slipped out of her and he gathered the breathless girl into his arms. Myra curled up into her husbands warmth, gently running her fingers along his chest. She sighed contently and nuzzled herself close to him. “I love you, Sandor.” She whispered to him before exhaustion consumed her and she drifted off. 

Extended Ending

“I can’t believe you two wasted all this food.” Winnie complained as she cleared their table the next morning.   
“I warned you not to let her be a pain in my ass.” Sandor spoke into his wife’s hair.   
“I told you she would be.” Myra groaned back, trying to cuddle closer to him.  
“I can’t believe she tried to kill Gregor.”  
“Oh better believe it, Scary Cheeks. Shame it didn’t work. What a lovely wedding present that would have been. I could have gift wrapped his head for you. I’m very good at bows.”  
“Winnie, get out. Sandor has a job to do and if you don’t you’ll see why I’m not leaving this bed today.” Myra told her maid making her husband smirk and kiss her before beginning to move to get up. Winnie let out a frightened scream as she didn’t want to bare witness to the large mans unmentionables and ran, slamming the door closed behind her.  
“Your maid is annoying.”  
“I know but she is why I’m here.”  
“Give her that raise.”


End file.
